


Tell Me Everything

by windsorblue



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-24
Updated: 2015-08-24
Packaged: 2018-04-17 00:12:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4645206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/windsorblue/pseuds/windsorblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by a prompt response by blogginghaley on tumblr, who kindly let me play too...original prompt was about truth serum. </p>
<p>(We're just going to pretend that whole alien rock thing never happened...)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tell Me Everything

“This is stupid.” Simmons leans back against the table in the interrogation room, arms crossed over her chest, frowning. “”We all know there’s _no such thing as a truth serum_.” She says that last bit loudly, looking around the room for the camera she’s certain is trained right on her. “Because if there were, we’d have bloody well invented it, wouldn’t we have, Fitz?” 

Fitz crosses his arms too and leans on the table next to her, shoulder to shoulder but not quite touching, nodding slightly. “Probably, yeah.”

—

Bobbi and Hunter are gathered around a video monitor when Skye walks into the lab; Bobbi in a wheelchair and Hunter leaning on the back of it. Bobbi was recovering slower than Skye would have expected, or maybe she was just milking it to keep Hunter on his toes. Either way, they’re both so intent on the monitor they don’t seem to notice when she comes in, so. 

“Hey, what are you guys watching?” Skye asks.

Hunter says “Nothing - nothing at all,” and Bobbi says “Hunter and Mack injected Fitz and Simmons with some QNB-T16 and locked them in the interrogation room so they have to get it over with and tell each other how they feel.”

“Wait…you did _what?_ I thought that stuff wasn’t real…”

Bobbi shrugs. “Depends on how badly the person getting the injection wants to tell the truth.”

Hunter taps the side of his head with his fingertip. “The conscious mind can be tricked into making the unconscious mind let go of it’s defenses.”

Skye shakes her head. “And you’re _watching_ them hash it out? What is _wrong_ with you?”

“Hey,” Hunter says, “We’re just making sure she doesn’t rip his heart out… _again._ ”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” says Skye.

Bobbi shoots Hunter a look and puts a hand on Skye’s arm. “What he means is, we’re just making sure they actually get to talk uninterrupted this time.” 

“By spying on them? You can’t just give them some privacy?”

“We turned the sound off…”

Mac comes through the door with a bowl of popcorn. “Did I miss anything good?”

“Nope,” Bobbi says, reaching out to scoop a handful out of the bowl. “And just so we’re all clear - _she’s_ not going to rip _his_ heart out. If anything, she’s the vulnerable one here. I give it fifteen minutes tops before they’re kissing.”

“Oh yeah?” says Hunter. “Care to make it interesting?

“Sure,” says Bobbi.

“Same wager as usual?”

“You’re on.”

“You’re _betting_ on this now?” Skye asks. “Seriously - what is _wrong_ with you people?”

—

“I mean.” Jemma says, frowning. “We were getting to this anyway, weren’t we, Fitz? On our own time, but still.” 

Fitz is quiet - draws in a deep breath and lets it halfway out. “I’ve been in love with you since the day we met.”

She looks at him, eyes wide with surprise. “What?”

“Look, I know there’s no such thing as a truth serum. But we’re obviously going to be locked up here in truth prison until Mack and Hunter and probably Bobbi as well are satisfied with our truth…iness…” Fitz says. “So we might as well just…”

“No,” says Jemma, “I mean…you hated me those first few months, Fitz.” She draws out that word - hated - almost as long as she’d felt like he’d been hating her.

Fitz is shaking his head. “I didn’t. I just didn’t know what to do with myself.” He falls quiet again, and then asks: “Have I ever told you about Mr. Mackhoe?”

Jemma shakes her head. “No, I don’t think you have…”

“When I was a kid, there was this man who used to hang about outside one the pubs in town. He’d order a pint and some chips, and set up a chess board, and play whoever sat down with him. Mr. Mackhoe…I’d see him whenever my mum dragged me with her out to the shops. I must have been about seven or so when I finally asked her why he seemed so sad all the time, and she said that he’d lost his wife and children in a car wreck.”

“How awful…”

“Yeah…she said that accident had broken his heart beyond repair. I never forgot that - it seemed so…sad, and frightening…having your heart get broken beyond repair.” He pauses, glances over at Simmons, and then back down at his feet. “Anyway, I never hated you, I just didn’t…look, we met, right? We….we shook hands…and made a little small-talk and I noticed you had pretty eyes…and then when I saw you in chem lab that afternoon I couldn’t stop looking over to see what you were doing and you were just so…” He looks like a lost boy, unable to meet her eyes directly. “…happy. I’d never seen anyone get so much glee from lighting a bunsen burner and scrubbing out beakers. I mean, you were like a happiness supernova in there, threatening to explode. And there was this little voice in the back of my head that said, well, if you’re ever going to get your heart broken beyond repair, that’ll be the girl to do it. And you almost did, you know. With that jumping out of the plane stunt. For a moment there, I understood how grief could bring a man to piss the rest of his life away drinking watered-down pints and playing chess with the passers-by.”

Jemma starts to say something, but doesn’t. She’s watching Fitz’s face, and then looks down at the floor. 

“All this to say that I never hated you, Jemma. Not even for a moment. I was just terrified of you for a while, that’s all.”

She’s quiet for a few more seconds. “Whatever happened to him? Mr. Mackhoe?”

Fitz smiles a little. “He taught me how to play chess. Last time I saw him was the day before I left for the Academy. He wished me good luck in America and told me to call my mum every week so she wouldn’t worry.” Jemma smiles a little, and Fitz says, “Go on, then - your turn.”

“Oh, are we having turns?”

“Seems only fair. I told you a pretty big truth - now you tell me one.”

“Alright.” She pushes herself up to sit on the table, rather than lean against it, and smooths her trousers over her knees with the palms of her hands. “I know you’re angry with me for not letting you drown, and I hate that you are, but I’m not sorry and if I had to do it all again, I wouldn’t change a thing. Except for the part where we were in the situation where we both almost died in the first place - that, I’d change. But the part where you _didn’t_ die - that stays the same.”

He looks taken aback and a little hurt. “I’m not angry at you for not letting me drown…”

“Well, it’s seemed that way to me…”

“No, I wasn’t angry at you, really - just…”

“You most certainly were…”

—

“Uh-huh,” says Hunter, nodding at the monitor and looking very pleased with himself. “See that? Arms crossed defensively…dramatic gesturing…bickering.” He elbows Bobbi in her good arm. “Told you so.”

“Bickering is their default state,” Skye says. Her voice is decidedly grumpy; her arms crossed over her chest. “Bickering is good. That means they’re getting along.”

“Oh, I thought we were terrible people and you wanted nothing to do with this,” Hunter says.

“You _are_ terrible people,” Skye replies, “But Fitz and Simmons are pretty much the best friends I’ve ever had, and if anyone’s going to be spying on them the first time they kiss, it’s gonna be _me_.”

There’s a long, quiet moment, until Mack says “So…you’re mad at us because we came up with this scheme to get them talking before you did?”

“Well, yeah,” says Skye. “Obviously.”

Mack nods. “In that case, I offer you my most sincere apologies that Bobbi, Hunter and I are more devious, awful, and generally all-around despicable people than you are.” He holds the popcorn bowl out to her. 

Skye eyes him for a second, uncrosses her arms, lets out half a smile, and scoops out a handful of popcorn. “Apology accepted.” Then she turns to Hunter and says, “Move your big head - you’re blocking the monitor.”

—

“No, I was angry when you left for two months, but…”

“Because you weren’t recovering properly with me around…”

“But you should have told me you were going…”

“Well I probably should have, but I just didn’t know if that would make things worse. And anyway, it’s still my turn and I have more to say.”

“…Oh. Sorry - go on, then.”

She lets out a sigh and stares forward - at nothing - for a few moments, then turns so she’s facing him, one leg bent on the table and the other dangling down. “Fitz, you’re the only person that’s ever understood me. And I don’t just mean on a technical level - I mean really understood… _me_ …how I work; what makes me tick.” She pushes a piece of hair behind her ear. “You know how it is, Fitz…you try to talk to someone - a friend, a family member, someone you’re dating - you try to talk to them about a project you’re working on, or something you’ve been studying, or anything that’s caught your fancy, really - and they get that horrible look on their face. The one that says you’ve lost them. Not in the sense of they’re not following what you’re saying, but…it’s the moment when they realize exactly how intelligent you are, and what your intelligence means for their own ego.” 

Fitz nods. “Yeah, I know what you’re talking about.”

“You’ve never looked at me that way. Even when I’m going on about something you don’t know anything about, you still understand me. You don’t need me to pretend that I’m stupid in order to make yourself feel more like a man, and I…” She stops and takes a breath to keep the words from just tumbling out. “I’ve been looking for someone who understood me my whole life. And here you are.” She smiles a little. “Beside me the whole damn time.” He smiles back at that. “When you and I finally became friends, I was so glad to have your friendship that I didn’t dare allow myself to think anything more would be possible. And then when you told me how you felt, it was like you’d opened up a whole new world of possibilities.” Her smile fades. “And then literally seconds later, that world came crashing down around my head. I just…couldn’t understand how you could tell me how you felt and then not want to stick around long enough to see what we could become…”

Fitz can feel his heart sinking. “Jemma…” he says softly. “I…”

She reaches over and takes his hand. “That was the hardest part of these last few months, Fitz - feeling like you and I didn’t understand each other anymore. That was absolutely the worst part.” 

They sit silent for a few long moments, just holding each other’s hand. Finally Fitz says, “So, no more noble attempts at self-sacrifice to save the other one, then.”

“God no, we’re awful at it,” Jemma says. She squeezes his hand and lets it go. “Alright - your turn now.”

“Your face when you laugh is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” Fitz just blurts it out, then stops for a second, as if that even caught him by surprise. A satisfied look crosses his face. “Huh. That was an easy one. Your turn.”

Jemma laughs a little bit - catches how he smiles when she does. “I have been having regular and rather vivid fantasies about you kissing me.” She clamps her mouth shut, lips pressed thin, looking away - trying to not look like an embarrassed schoolgirl and failing miserably. 

Fitz’s mouth opens and shuts a couple of times. Finally he says, “How regular and how vivid?”

She rolls her eyes and glances at him sideways. “A couple of times a day, and very.”

“A couple of times a day?”

“Okay, three or four. Sometimes more.”

“Sometimes more?”

“Yes,” she says firmly. “Sometimes. Your turn.”

“Hang on…” Fitz is half-smiling at her. “Does this mean your expectations are really high? Do I have a lot to live up to?”

“Yes it does, and indeed you do,” Jemma says with a nod, and then she smiles. “Your turn.”

“Right…um…”

—

“Eleven minutes.” Hunter wags his eyebrows. 

Bobbi’s face is calm and collected. “Do I look worried?”

Out of the corner of her mouth, Skye says to Mack, “Does she look worried?

“She does not,” Mack says.

“Okay,” Skye says. “Just checking. Hard to tell sometimes with you experienced super-spy types.”

—

“So…you know that blue scarf you thought you lost in the lab a few weeks ago?” Fitz asks.

“Yeah,” Jemma says.

“You didn’t lose it, it’s under my pillow.” 

Jemma’s eyebrows arch up. “Oh really?” Fitz’s face scrunches in an awkward, embarrassed way, and Jemma has to laugh again. “It’s alright, Fitz. You keep it for now.”

“You’re sure?” Fitz asks, and Jemma nods. “Okay then, good, thank you. Your turn - make it a good one so mine seems less creepy, yeah?”

“Okay…” Jemma looks up at the ceiling for a minute. “Remember those awful bouts of homesickness I used to get while we were at the Academy? You’d take me to that pub in town that opened early on the weekends so people could watch the live feed of the Barclay’s Premier matches. Or if there wasn’t any football, you’d just come over to my room so I could have some company.” 

She turns her head to look at Fitz, and he nods. “Yeah, I remember. What about them?”

She can’t quite manage to look him in the eye. “There were a couple of times where…I faked it.” And then she does look him in the eye, cringing but still kind of half-smiling.

He sits back, incredulous. “You’re kidding.”

“It was just a couple of times…a statistically significant number of times, but just barely statistically significant…most of the time I really was homesick.”

He starts to smile. “Why?”

She shrugs a little. “I think I just wanted your undivided attention, but I didn’t know how else to ask. Plus, there were the hugs - you’re a very good hugger, Fitz.”

“I am?”

“Oh, yes. Skye and I have discussed it at length, and we agree that…”

“You’ve had conversations with Skye about my hugging technique?”

“Of course!” Jemma pauses. “You’re not angry, are you?” 

“Of course not. Haven’t got much right to be, since I’ve got your stolen scarf shoved under my pillow like I’m some sort of…scarf pervert.”

—

“Thirteen minutes, forty seconds…you sure you’re not worried there, Bobs?”

Bobbi shakes her head and smiles, but doesn’t take her eyes off the screen just yet. “There are so many reasons I’m going to enjoy watching you lose.”

—

Jemma laughs, and Fitz smiles, and Jemma sits up straight and says, “It’s your turn.”

Fitz just looks at her for a long moment, and then says very quietly, “Let’s see about exceeding some expectations, then.” He leans toward her, and she leans in. He kisses her, and it’s perfect - soft and gentle; sweet as a shy, nerdy boy confessing his love.

—

“Awwww…”

“Awwww…”

“Fourteen minutes, seven seconds! Pay up!”

“Oh bloody hell, mate - you couldn’t have held out another minute?”

It takes Skye a second to realize Mack is saying “Awwww” at the same time she is. She looks at him in surprise, and he shrugs. “What? It’s adorable.”

“I just…didn’t expect that reaction out of someone who could bench-press me.”

“There’s more to me than just this pretty face, you know. And for the record - I could bench-press both you and Simmons. At the same time.”

Skye nods, eyes wide. “Duly noted.”

“Alright, alright…” Hunter is reaching into his pocket for his wallet. “Might as well just be proud of Fitz for doing as well as he has.”

“As well as he has?” says Bobbi. “Please. I give it another ten minutes max before the clothes start coming off.”

Hunter stops cold, hand over his wallet but not taking it out of his pocket just yet. “Double or nothing says you’re wrong.”

Bobbi’s eyes narrow and she looks every inch the heartless predatory monster Hunter used to tell everyone she was. “Deal.”

They’ve both turned back to the monitor by the time Skye processes everything she just overheard. “Wait. _What?_ ”

—

Fitz leans back again, and when Jemma opens her eyes she can see him watching her with his heart on his sleeve. He looks like he’s desperate to ask if he exceeded her expectations, and just as desperate not to know if he hadn’t. She watches a thousand sentences die on the tip of his tongue before he finally settles on one.

“Your turn, Jemma,” Fitz says.

She’s still for a long moment, save for her biting her lower lip. And then, in the kind of flurry that comes from months of keeping one’s emotions in check, she grabs him by the cardigan with both hands, pulls him to her, and kisses him back. It isn’t sweet and it isn’t shy, but dear God is it still perfect. 

—

Skye’s jaw drops. Hunter’s jaw drops. Bobbi says, “Told you so,” and Mack says, “Maybe we should go get them before somebody gets hurt. One of them’s gonna fall off that table.”

Simmons has Fitz quite literally by the collar, climbing onto his lap. One of Fitz’s hands runs up her spine until it gets to her hair, fingers twining into her curls. The other hand presses at the small of her back, drawing her impossibly closer. Simmons is pushing the cardigan off Fitz’s shoulders and down his arms, and then grabs at the collar of his shirt, tugging it open, sending at least two buttons flying and they _haven’t stopped kissing yet._

“Go get him, Jemma!” Bobbi says. 

“Seriously, we should put a stop to this,” says Mack. “Somebody’s gonna run out of oxygen soon and all things considered, that’s just not funny.”

The kissing stops when Simmons pushes Fitz back so he’s fully lying on the interrogation room table with her straddling his lap. His hands are on her waist, pushing up under her shirt, fingers grazing skin. He’s looking at her as if she’s got the face of God in her eyes, and she grasps the hem of her blouse and starts to pull it up…

Skye reaches past Bobbi and Hunter to slam the “OFF” button on the video feed. “THAT’S enough! Show’s over!”

“Awww,” says Hunter. 

Bobbi pokes him hard in the arm. “Pay.” Poke. “Up.”

Hunter shakes his head. “Hang on, we didn’t see any clothes actually come off - Skye turned it off before they got to the good bits.”

“Oh, come on…” Bobbi groans. “You know I won. Pay up.”

Hunter reaches for the switch to turn the feed back on. He’s eyeballing Skye like he’s a little kid on a playground, looking to rile up some trouble, and Skye realizes that he’s testing her; seeing how far he can push her before she - well - pushes back. “No, no - I think we have to turn it back on to verify…” 

Skye turns to glare at Bobbi. “Are you even supposed to be out of bed right now?” she says, a little too hard and a little too cold.

Bobbi goes pale and stares up at her with wide eyes. Hunter holds stock-still. Bobbi says, “Please don’t tell Simmons I was out of bed without permission.”

“Yeah,” says Hunter. “And don’t tell her I got Bobbi out of bed without permission.”

“Oh, I’m telling,” Skye says. “I’m totally telling. I will rat both of you out in a heartbeat if you don’t get your hand away from that monitor control.”

Bobbi glares at Hunter, and Hunter slowly pulls his hands back, palms out, like he’s just handed over a loaded weapon and is trying to show he’s no longer a threat. “Got it - thank you - no ratting out necessary here.” He steps back, reaches down to unlock the brake on Bobbi’s wheelchair, and starts wheeling her away. As he goes he shoots one last look at Skye - _we good here?_ \- and Skye raises an eyebrow - _I don’t know, are we?_ Hunter nods and pushes Bobbi’s chair back to sickbay.

“You’re going to tell Simmons anyway, aren’t you?” Mack asks.

“Pfft - it’s Simmons. She’ll know without anybody telling her a damn thing.”

Mack nods, “True.” He moves toward the door and glances at the monitor’s control panel. “I’m pretty sure neither Fitz nor Simmons wants this little episode showing up on Coulson’s daily security briefing…”

“On it,” Skye says, pulling up a chair at the nearest workstation.

Mack nods again, heading out the door. “Man, I’m taking you with me the next time I go out to meet new people - you’re a hell of a wingman.”

Skye just grins and starts typing.

—

“Oh! Um…Skye…” Jemma is twirling a strand of hair around her finger and giving Skye the about-to-ask-for-a-favor look on her face. 

“If you’re about to ask me to make a couple of hours of this afternoon’s security footage from the interrogation room disappear, it’s already taken care of.” Jemma looks quite taken aback, and Skye grins a little bit. 

“…you knew?” Jemma asks.

Skye shrugs. “I heard a rumor that there may or may not have been bad-girl shenanigans taking place.” She reaches out and takes Jemma’s elbow, threading her arm into the space between Jemma’s elbow and her side to lock arms with her. “But a rumor isn’t as good as a first-hand account, soooo…tell me everything. Is Fitz as good at kissing as he is at hugging?” 

Jemma looks scandalized for a moment, and then she breaks into a wide grin. “Oh yes, he is.”


End file.
